


These Small Hours

by amyfortuna



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alternate Canon, Jossed, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-11
Updated: 2007-07-11
Packaged: 2017-10-06 03:59:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped in the silo with no way out, the Doctor and Jack continue their conversation, which takes a more physical turn, while Martha nurses a not-actually-dead Chantho.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Small Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Begins immediately after Utopia, and is now thoroughly jossed.

It felt like hours but was in reality breathless seconds before the Doctor rushed to the door, combining his weight with Jack’s and Martha’s. It slid shut with a sharp click. The Doctor threw one anguished look at the Futurekind and applied his sonic screwdriver to the door, sealing it fast.

“They can’t get in,” he said to no one in particular, “but we can’t get out.”

Martha was already kneeling by Chantho’s body, bemoaning the lack of her stethoscope and med kit, now flying hell knew where with the Master.

Jack was rummaging in his bag, and triumphantly held up a small med kit.

Martha caught it one-handed and quickly began working over Chantho. “She’s not dead,” she said almost immediately. “I don’t know what will help for her species, though — she’s been badly burned.”

Chantho stirred softly. “Chan, Martha, there is ice in the coldbox over there, tho,” she whispered very faintly.

Martha tossed a look at Jack, who responded as swiftly as if she’d shouted, fetching one of the ice wraps inside, and bringing it to Martha, who applied it carefully to Chantho’s chest and side.

The Doctor had slipped back into a kind of stupor, leaning against the door, unconscious of the Futurekind pounding on the outside. Jack came over to him, gently taking him by the hand and leading him away. The Doctor hardly reacted to Jack’s touch except to give a kind of shiver and follow meekly.

“Is there somewhere we can move you that will be better than this floor?” Martha asked Chantho.

“Chan, my bed, through there, tho,” Chantho pointed at a door at the other end of the room.

“Doctor, Jack, I need both of you,” Martha said. They turned, Jack swiftly, the Doctor with downcast eyes. Jack stepped over to the room in question and switched the small lamp just inside the door on.

A fairly large bedroom with a big bed in the centre and two doors leading off appeared.

Chantho shook her head. “Chan, the small room, tho,” she said. Jack walked over to one of the doors of that room and slid back the metal door to find a smaller room, just large enough to house a small bed and a clothes closet.

Together, the Doctor and Jack lifted Chantho carefully, Martha holding the ice steady on her, and they stumbled back to Chantho’s room, laying her as carefully as possible on the bed.

“Okay, then,” Martha said, sitting down on the bed beside Chantho and carefully pressing the ice pack against her. “This room’s far too small to hold four people — why don’t the two of you shove off for now?” She rummaged through the medical kit with one hand, not looking at the Doctor or Jack, the medical student out in full force.

Obediently, Jack pulled the Doctor out of Chantho’s room, sliding the door mostly shut so Martha could call them if she needed to. Tugging the Doctor over to the large bed, he sat down. The Doctor hadn’t uttered one word in all this time, but was clinging tightly to Jack’s hand like it was a lifeline.

“We’ll get out of here,” Jack said softly. “We’ll get the TARDIS back.” The Doctor turned his head, looked at Jack, and something seemed to break inside his eyes.

“He has my TARDIS,” the Doctor whispered. “I couldn’t get in. I couldn’t —” his voice broke and he slumped forward into Jack’s arms. Jack caught him, arms sliding around his shoulders, lips against his hair, whispering soft words into his ear.

After a moment the Doctor roused, moving away from Jack, but just a little, their bodies still touching.

“I don’t feel so wrong now, do I?” Jack asked with the hint of a smile.

The Doctor looked up into his eyes. “Well, if Rose could take the Time Vortex inside herself and still be so very human,” he said slowly, as if he was just thinking of the words at that moment, “then you, with the power of that same vortex keeping you alive, are obviously still the same species you always were, and my prejudices were the only thing keeping me from seeing it.”

Jack leaned forward, unable to stop himself, and kissed the Doctor’s forehead lightly. “Still a genius,” he said.

“Listen,” the Doctor said, turning toward the door.

“Silence,” Jack replied.

“The Futurekind aren’t trying to batter down the door anymore. Well, that’s good,” the Doctor said.

“Doesn’t mean we can go out there, though,” Jack said. “Bet you anything they’re lying in wait round the first corner.”

“Of course,” the Doctor said. They sat in silence for a few minutes, half-listening to the quiet murmur of Martha’s voice from the next room.

Martha appeared at the door then, taking in the picture of the two of them sitting together on the bed. With a slight raise of her eyebrow the only clue to her feelings, she said, “Chantho’s going to be all right, I think, but she’s going to need some time to recover. The best thing she — and indeed all of us — can do is sleep. We’ll all think more clearly after some rest.”

“We should try and make sure no one can get in,” Jack said.

Martha nodded. “Absolutely. Also, if I can take some of those blankets and pillows, I’ll take a nap next to her bed. Her ice wrapping will need changing every few hours so I’ll keep an eye on that.”

“Are there enough in the coldbox, do you think?” Jack asked. “I counted five.”

“Should do,” Martha said. “Also, they’re reusable, so when this one comes off I’ll put it back in.” She looked at the Doctor, who’d gone quiet again. “Cheer up, emo Time Lord. It could be worse.”

“Not sure how,” the Doctor said softly. She smiled suddenly, and gave him a swift hug.

“We could all be roasted and eaten by now. You could be a human. Chantho could be dead. Any number of things.”

“You could not have me with you!” Jack put in.

“Good point, Captain Undead,” she said, hugging him too. “Now get out there and fortress this place up.”

Jack looked at the Doctor with a grin. “Now I like a woman who knows how to take charge.”

“A woman who’ll unleash hell if you don’t do what she says,” Martha warned.

“Kinky,” Jack said, but got up, walking back out into the main lab. The Doctor stayed behind for a moment, and hugged Martha.

“Thank you, Martha,” he said. “For being you, for being so strong. I’m so glad I met you.” And he followed Jack out the door as she stood still for a moment, trembling.

 

——

Nearly an hour later, the Doctor and Jack pronounced their task finished and returned to the bedroom. The Futurekind had not stirred, but Jack was certain he’d seen a face peering around the nearest corner when he looked out the window just before blocking it off.

In any case, to get in would take a lot more weaponry and technology than the Futurekind seemed to possess, even with the rest of the silo at their disposal.

There was some food in the small kitchenette at the far end of the laboratory, but not much for three people and one insect-creature. If they didn’t find a way out soon, Chantho and Martha would die quickly, Jack would die from starvation again once his body fat had been consumed, and the Doctor, while not exactly susceptible to starvation, would await the swift-approaching end of the universe with no escape.

With all this occupying his mind, Jack found it impossible to sleep and decided not to bother, opening his eyes. The Doctor, too, lay with his eyes open, staring into space, or possibly, at Jack.

“I’m trying to think of something,” the Doctor said. “It’s right on the edge of my thoughts, but I can’t quite grab it. It’s probably right in front of me!”

“Shhh,” Jack said. “Martha was right, even Time Lords need sleep.”

The Doctor curled up closer to Jack, who found himself turning to embrace the Time Lord in a hug that was honestly meant to be nothing more than friendly.

It seemed the Doctor had other ideas, though, leaning up and kissing Jack in the darkness.

“Are you sure, Doctor?” Jack found himself saying after the kiss broke.

“Don’t want to think,” the Doctor said into Jack’s shirt. “Just want to feel right now. Need to focus on something that doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay,” Jack said, and kissed the Doctor, for a long time, tenderly, with well over a century’s worth of passion. By the time the kiss broke, the Doctor was clinging to him fiercely, all that focus now bent on Jack.

“Not having trouble looking at me now?” Jack asked, not quite ready to let it go.

“Well,” the Doctor said, drawing the word out and cocking his head to the side, peering at Jack through half-closed eyes, “it helps if you don’t happen to be constantly dying and regenerating.” He looked away for a second, then back to Jack.

And then he pounced — that was the only word for it. His fingers threaded through Jack’s hair, he kissed Jack hard, holding him close. Jack felt the Doctor’s body — not so very much unlike a man’s — responding with the characteristic erection.

“Oh,” the Doctor said, breaking the kiss and trying desperately to sound cheerful, “Didn’t tell you. Figured out why the TARDIS was trying to shake you off. Sames repel.”

“What?” Jack said, slightly dazed by the kiss.

“Opposites attract. Sames repel. You have some of her energy inside you.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “With her gone, you feel like her. Kissing you is like touching her.”

“You have trouble looking at me, but you’re attracted to me nevertheless, because I have TARDIS energy in me?” Jack said, amused.

The Doctor made an uncertain motion with his hand. “Yeah. Kinda-sorta. Ish. Mostly, yeah. Can you take your clothes off now?”

Jack laughed. “Thought you’d never ask! You were certainly nervous enough before!”

The Doctor sputtered a little and stared. “It’s just that, well, there’s a time and a place! Now is the time and this is the place, so strip, Captain.”

“Turnabout’s fair play, so you too, Doctor,” Jack said, nevertheless obeying.

They took off their clothes on opposite sides of the bed in silence, looking at each other, tracing the differences, counting the similarities. It wasn’t long though, before Jack, naked, crawled into the bed and across it, pulling the Doctor toward him, still struggling to pull off his socks.

Jack removed the last sock and discarded it.

“Now would be the perfect time for the Futurekind to break in,” the Doctor grumbled.

“Or for Martha to wake up,” Jack added. “Although, think she’d fancy a threesome?”

The Doctor shrugged. “How would I know? Maybe.”

“You never took her to Eroticon VII?”

“I took her to New York! Twice, isn’t that good enough?”

“Clearly not, my dear Doctor,” Jack said. “Now, come here. I have a whole new body to learn.”

Jack traced a finger down the curve of the Doctor’s throat, then followed the finger with lips and tongue. Hands in the Doctor’s hair now, and Jack’s mouth at his ear whispered delicious secret words.

The Doctor’s hands were not idle either; he traced the skin of Jack’s back, relearning all the contours of his body. Drifting down to gently grope Jack’s arse, he found himself flat on his back with a laughing Jack above him.

“Not yet, my Doctor,” Jack said, bending to lick the Doctor again, this time a quick flick over the right nipple. The Doctor was wordless with the pleasure of it, head tilted back, eyes closed.

Jack was always one for seizing opportunities, and when one presented itself like the Doctor’s mouth, he could not refuse.

Everything melted into kissing and grinding against each other for a while, each of them swallowing the other’s wordless cries of pleasure.

“Jack, Jack,” the Doctor whispered in one of the breathless moments between kisses, throat gone dry with eagerness. “I want to fuck you, want to be inside you, may I?”

“I had planned nothing else,” Jack answered in his own breathless whisper. Still on top of the Doctor, Jack took one hand and inserted two fingers into his own mouth, then bending back a little, smiling as the Doctor watched avidly, slid them into his arse and almost as quickly out again.

Preparation done, Jack knelt over the Doctor, lowering himself onto the Doctor’s cock. The Doctor breathed a long sigh, whispering words under his breath Jack couldn’t quite catch or understand.

Jack bent forward, kissing the Doctor. Their bodies fit together like they’d been made for this. Energy crackled between them, golden light passed back and forth between their bodies.

The Doctor, if not otherwise occupied, would have explained it as a feedback loop, their mouths meeting, their bodies meeting, and when the Doctor reached down and stroked Jack’s cock, thrusting up into him, the energy between them soared.

And then it was sex and passion and everything all wrapped up together, all the torrent of the years apart finding a home as Jack’s tongue pushed into the Doctor’s mouth, and all the fear and guilt and grief spilling out of the Doctor as he thrust into Jack, stroked Jack, saw only Jack.

Orgasm struck like lightning, and they found themselves clinging together in the aftermath of the storm. Somehow they fell away from each other, the energy dying down, the Doctor pulling Jack close to him, curling together.

No words were needed.

* * *

Several hours later, Martha left Chantho’s room to fetch a new ice pack, and found them snuggled up together, asleep.

She supposed her first reaction should have been jealousy, but it wasn’t. Loving the Doctor had very little to do with a sense of ownership over him, she realised. Loving him was about wanting him to be happy.

Her new ice pack for Chantho in her hand, she smiled at them, and hurried to do what she did best — heal.

The morning would bring what it brought.


End file.
